((Hey folx, several of us that will be in this thread have life things so responses will likely ebb and flow in strange ways. My intent is that this takes place at some nebulous place between Pack Binding and the as-yet-unnamed scene in which we get out of time lock. While it is not my intent for anything beyond a casual social scene to occur, Garou are just the worst so who knows?))

Brennus arrives in the clearing in which the crew has made camp carrying a rather sizable stone cauldron, rough carved with knotwork and pointedly ancient. Once he's crossed through the open field and found his way back into the comfortable shade near the Pavilion the Fianna glances around. Frowning slightly, the cauldron is set gently to one side with no apparent effort.

Sovereign Legacy - The blood of a known god runs through your veins and all of creation can feel it in theirs. Having the strength of your divine (or infernal) legacy behind you gives interactions with you a certain twist, based on ST discretion. Your difficulties on all Social rolls are -2 and your presence grants +1 to any group endeavors. ((Supporter Merit with different flavor text and additional cost))

With pointed ears, teeth a bit sharper than they need to be, and a smile like sin before supper, Brennus is not one to blend in. His clothing is mutable, dependent almost entirely on what is most available, save for a raven feather braided into his hair and a necklace of beads loose around his neck. Usually seen with his raven companion, a look of mischief in his eye, and a stride full of poorly contained violence. Somewhere there is a large, far too intelligent orange Maine Coon watching, waiting, and looking distinctly like they know something you don't.

"A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare to the jeweled vision of a life started anew." -- Aberjhani

Rex noisily clanks and clatters into view carrying a wide variety of bottles tied to handmade ropes and hanging from a thick stick across his bare shoulders. Several pitchers of ice swing heavily. With his jacket knotted at his waist, he seems happy and carrying his haul without strain. He whistles appreciatively at the large stone.

Sovereign Legacy - The blood of a known god runs through your veins and all of creation can feel it in theirs. Having the strength of your divine (or infernal) legacy behind you gives interactions with you a certain twist, based on ST discretion. Your difficulties on all Social rolls are -2 and your presence grants +1 to any group endeavors. ((Supporter Merit with different flavor text and additional cost))

With pointed ears, teeth a bit sharper than they need to be, and a smile like sin before supper, Brennus is not one to blend in. His clothing is mutable, dependent almost entirely on what is most available, save for a raven feather braided into his hair and a necklace of beads loose around his neck. Usually seen with his raven companion, a look of mischief in his eye, and a stride full of poorly contained violence. Somewhere there is a large, far too intelligent orange Maine Coon watching, waiting, and looking distinctly like they know something you don't.

"A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare to the jeweled vision of a life started anew." -- Aberjhani

Rex makes a wry expression and leaves it be. Once the bottles are free he starts fashioning a bottle opener from stick and stone. Occasionally he will produce a perfectly good bottle opener from a jacket pocket to compare and make adjustments.

"English, Bren," Eve says, cheerily, whisking into the clearing with a wide, shallow basket -almost a platter, really- perched on her right hip and babes slung cross-wise on her chest. The basket is overflowing with breads and rolls and such things, all of which smell fresh·baked for all that the party was impromptu. "Not everyone in the crew speaks the Mother's sweetest tongue, and my Russian is only so-so at best. I mean, of course, I'm fluent and conversational, but my accent is atrocious. I sound like a lowlands scully·maid." She turns to Rex as she sets down the basket. "Take the twins will you love, I have simply got to run to the necessary." Unceremoniously, she hands him the pair of one-year-olds, shucking the slings. They're dressed identically in what seems to be gowns made of soft, home-spun linnen.

____________When night stirred at sea, if the fire brought a crowd in, they say that her beauty was music in mouth.
And few in the candlelight thought her too proud, for the house of the planter is known by the trees.
Men that had seen her drank deep and were silent, the women were speaking wherever she went --
As a bell that is rung or a wonder told shyly, and O she was the Sunday in every week.

Brennus chuckles roughly, giving his mate a pointed look. Finally settling on a plan, he picks a spot in the shade without being completely under the overhanging branches. The din and vision of him digging through his pile of disorganized nonsense with little care for where things end up is almost comical.

"That there pot is a gift from Uncle and is where all of our feast meals will be coming from for some time." A triumphant grunt is followed by Brennus pulling some gut cordage to the length of his arm thrice with some slack. With a casual toe beneath the shaft of his ashandarei the Fianna kicks the weapon from the ground into the air next to him, catching it without looking. He strides over to the spot he'd been looking at before going off to find his tools. "Come here and watch how to do this, kid. You may need it one day."

Sovereign Legacy - The blood of a known god runs through your veins and all of creation can feel it in theirs. Having the strength of your divine (or infernal) legacy behind you gives interactions with you a certain twist, based on ST discretion. Your difficulties on all Social rolls are -2 and your presence grants +1 to any group endeavors. ((Supporter Merit with different flavor text and additional cost))

With pointed ears, teeth a bit sharper than they need to be, and a smile like sin before supper, Brennus is not one to blend in. His clothing is mutable, dependent almost entirely on what is most available, save for a raven feather braided into his hair and a necklace of beads loose around his neck. Usually seen with his raven companion, a look of mischief in his eye, and a stride full of poorly contained violence. Somewhere there is a large, far too intelligent orange Maine Coon watching, waiting, and looking distinctly like they know something you don't.

"A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare to the jeweled vision of a life started anew." -- Aberjhani

Eve pauses in her rushing off to stare back at Brennus, blush, and turn back to to head off into the brush to do her business. As she goes, she mutters something not unlike "...Maybe not everything in English."

She returns a few minutes later, pausing at the edge of the clearing, her eyes automatically going first to her babes and then to watching what the men are doing.

____________When night stirred at sea, if the fire brought a crowd in, they say that her beauty was music in mouth.
And few in the candlelight thought her too proud, for the house of the planter is known by the trees.
Men that had seen her drank deep and were silent, the women were speaking wherever she went --
As a bell that is rung or a wonder told shyly, and O she was the Sunday in every week.

Caiolynn ended up appearing on the opposite end of the clearing, a large leather sack hung over each of her shoulders. The bags were each easily as large as she was, or nearly so, and heavy by the look of them.

____________Irish woman are curves and class and straight whiskey in a glass
{NPC}

From the distance Mackenzie approaches the gathering arm in arm with Reagan, the sound of their voices drifting ahead to announce their presence to those already there.

It is clear that she has kept up a steady stream of conversation with him from the time they leftthe area of pack binding.

Mackenzie tips her head, "Deities? Like Gods... but... I thought the Fianna were a Garou tribe?" She frowns for a moment, her free hand seeming to count as she mouths words to herself.

She lights up as he attempts to describe a Fianna-style party. "Sounds like a party style I could get used to. I mean... maybe I'll pass on arm wrestling with this group but I'm a pretty big fan of kick off your heels and get down into the dirty of true celebrating. My parents tribe was pretty good with celebrating but this sounds like it might have a dash more college style to it," she says with a laugh.

"Oh, they're a Garou tribe, alright." Reagan chuckles. "But I don't see why that should preclude the Gods, or gods, being involved." The way he inflects makes the difference between capital and lowercase god obvious. "Least-wise, it never has before now." He shifts such that they move from arm-in-arm to him having her by the hand as they enter the clearing fully. He twirls her about and leads them both into a bow. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived, and the party may now begin." There's an obvious level of mock self-importance in his tone, and he winks at Mackenzie as he straightens.

"Make sure you ask if anything is awakened before you have any, or you'll be in for a hell of a ride."

____________"Say 'Nevermore,'" said Shadow.
"Fuck You," said the Raven.
{NPC}

Mackenzie lifts a finger and looks for a moment like she is about to say something but then, pausing, drops her hand.

Managing not to trip up with his moves, she attempts to match his grace, a laugh bubbling at the impromptu spinning. Catching his look, she assumes a mock serious stance, her head thrown back and shoulders proud, and nods imperiously, her eyes sparkling with the jest.

"Awakened?" She queries, "And like... a bad hell of a ride or the kind that you want to chase again?" Her voice holding hints of maybe being open to the adventure.

Rex stands holding the babes gently but with a look of practice. He smiles at them warmly and bounces them a little, giving them a quiet introduction so they can hear his voice and know he means no harm. Once the three of them are adjusted Rex walks them over towards Brennus.

Brennus grins at the twins, then puts on a mock serious face - great stone-faced warrior that he is. The shaft of his spear is driven into the earth, the cord tied just beneath the blade, and a knife tied to the end of said cord. The Fianna shows the process of measuring distance and marking a circle with the blade, all in silence.

While the others talk he quietly shifts into his wolf skin and digs out the necessary pit. Lupus claws make unsettlingly short work of what moments before was hard packed dirt, roughly three feet deep by thirteen feet wide. Now freshly covered in dirt, Brennus shifts back up into Homid.

"Alright, kid, hand off the twins and help me find some decent hardwood. And, uh, you will need a shovel for that last part."

Sovereign Legacy - The blood of a known god runs through your veins and all of creation can feel it in theirs. Having the strength of your divine (or infernal) legacy behind you gives interactions with you a certain twist, based on ST discretion. Your difficulties on all Social rolls are -2 and your presence grants +1 to any group endeavors. ((Supporter Merit with different flavor text and additional cost))

With pointed ears, teeth a bit sharper than they need to be, and a smile like sin before supper, Brennus is not one to blend in. His clothing is mutable, dependent almost entirely on what is most available, save for a raven feather braided into his hair and a necklace of beads loose around his neck. Usually seen with his raven companion, a look of mischief in his eye, and a stride full of poorly contained violence. Somewhere there is a large, far too intelligent orange Maine Coon watching, waiting, and looking distinctly like they know something you don't.

"A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare to the jeweled vision of a life started anew." -- Aberjhani

Sovereign Legacy - The blood of a known god runs through your veins and all of creation can feel it in theirs. Having the strength of your divine (or infernal) legacy behind you gives interactions with you a certain twist, based on ST discretion. Your difficulties on all Social rolls are -2 and your presence grants +1 to any group endeavors. ((Supporter Merit with different flavor text and additional cost))

With pointed ears, teeth a bit sharper than they need to be, and a smile like sin before supper, Brennus is not one to blend in. His clothing is mutable, dependent almost entirely on what is most available, save for a raven feather braided into his hair and a necklace of beads loose around his neck. Usually seen with his raven companion, a look of mischief in his eye, and a stride full of poorly contained violence. Somewhere there is a large, far too intelligent orange Maine Coon watching, waiting, and looking distinctly like they know something you don't.

"A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare to the jeweled vision of a life started anew." -- Aberjhani

Shortly after Rex and Brennus left, Syd seemed to appear headed towards the group. For once her scarf while still with her not wrapped around her neck but around her waist. It caught the ground a little bit she did not seem to mind. She had an amused grin on her face as she made to Makenzie and Regan.

"My little search was a success. Like it isn't the best stuff but it isn't the worst either from what I can tell." She said with a smile as she held up a small baggie with an ounce maybe two of weed inside, it wasn't like she had struck gold. But more wrangled up some pocket change from the couch. "But I am generally not going to be picky with what the time bubble gives me. Also, I cleansed it and it didn't just turn into dust...so I am going to take that as a good sign."

____________Sydney Sloane
Homid, Theurge, Fostern, Glass Walker

(4 Apperance Traits) Spirit Magnet: Spirits find her, interesting.
Born Leader: Others respond to your inherent authority and tend to follow your orders or suggestions. Even if you do not hold a position of leadership, those around you treat you as if you did.Picture Base Model

Yiya-teh meandered over to the party area as her own pack finished their fighting for dominance. She did a quick headcount, frowned and sniffed the air, then nodded.

"Alright. People need to take a load off, so here." She set down a small, tightly woven basket with a lid, no larger than a coffee cup or a pencil holder. It was lined with white silk, and within it lay several perfectly round, perfectly clear globes. In fact, these small stones are dewdrops given solid form by the water spirits within, bound during the first rays of a spring morning. "Pegasus' Tears. Will cleanse whatever you might put into you tonight right back out of you. The kin will need someone to activate them for them in an emergency. Everyone, please take two to keep on you, and make sure others do as well. This will let you act freely tonight." The Native American woman smiled benevolently.

"Enjoy. I know I will." She opened a small cotton cloth and laid it next to the talens. "White cloth is for the kinfolk," a dozen or so dried mushrooms lay upon it "No more than three each."

A black cloth was sat next to it, slightly larger, though it seemed to have the same thing inside. Yiya-teh opened that bundle, and took out three mushrooms herself, and tied it shut again. "For the Garou. Same restriction applies. Don't let the kin eat these, they're dangerous to them." She leveled that last instruction at everyone present before she popped the first of her three shrooms into her mouth and began chewing slowly.

It is my nature to be kind, gentle, and loving. But know this when it comes to matters of protecting my friends,
my family, and my heart: Do not trifle with me. If you do, you will find that I am also the most powerful and relentless creature you will know,
and you will be sure of that when I taste your heart's blood and watch the light fade from your eyes until your dying breath.

Eve heartily agreed as well, as she approached. One kid balanced on each hip, she looked like some celtic goddess walked right out of myth. The kinfolk's hips and babes perched upon them promising fertility, sway in her step promising a good time, and smile and gaze that promised that the devil on her shoulder was louder than its angelic twin, tonight.

"Thank you, Elder," Eve offers meekly to the Uktena Shaman, and helps herself to two of the pegasus tears and then, after glancing at the Elder and receiving a nod, four more,which she tucks in a little pocket in each child's dressing skirts.

"Well, Syd'ney." she said the name with an odd stop in it and a significant glance in the direction Brennus has gone. "I put up enough milk up to feed the babes for the next few hours, so if one of you will help me drag hang a hammock to set the wee ones into, I've just finished getting some chamomile tea with catmint and feverfew in it into these two. They should be," And she pauses with an indulgent smile as the little girl perched on her right hip yawned. "Yep, there we go. They should be heading to sleep soon as you please." A devilish smirk lights her up in the twilight aeternum.

"And then, we party."

____________When night stirred at sea, if the fire brought a crowd in, they say that her beauty was music in mouth.
And few in the candlelight thought her too proud, for the house of the planter is known by the trees.
Men that had seen her drank deep and were silent, the women were speaking wherever she went --
As a bell that is rung or a wonder told shyly, and O she was the Sunday in every week.

"On it!" Syd said with a grin, she took a pause to look at what was in her hands and then to Mackenzie handing over the bag to her. "I trust you with this."

Once Mackenzie takes the small bag from her, the Glasswalker moves with a bit of a bounce in her step to help Eve get the hammock for the tins set up.

____________Sydney Sloane
Homid, Theurge, Fostern, Glass Walker

(4 Apperance Traits) Spirit Magnet: Spirits find her, interesting.
Born Leader: Others respond to your inherent authority and tend to follow your orders or suggestions. Even if you do not hold a position of leadership, those around you treat you as if you did.Picture Base Model

The gentle sounds of a guitar can be heard drifting into the shindig well before David wonders up to find the group. His voice could be heard softly to those of excellent hearing, singing to himself.

"So which wolf will you feed.
One makes you strong, and one makes you weak.
And those who know and those who seek
Amidst the chaos, find your peace...yeah
I know which wolf I'll feed...
I know which wolf I'll feed...

"Great Spirit, I have had it
Bring me back to the nomadic
Way of weaving through the damage
Mindful, stay mindful
Great Spirit, for my sisters
Let me be a flowing river
Flood the banks, the rocks that bind her
Car-ry, I'll carry...

"Great...Great Spirit
Oh oo-oh
Great...Great Spirit
Oh ooo...Oh!"

Ending the song with a slight startlement is when he comes across the group, a grin forming on his lips. "I was wondering when I was going to stumble into others. Clearly my luck is still with me. Hello everyone!" He speaks companionably, almost as if he was friends with everyone already. Hoisted on his back can be seen a backpack, as well as a guitar case....also is that a medium sized hand drum with a ukulele tied to it on his back as well!?

A tall and lean man of Native American descent. Tilted blue eyes gleam mischievously, giving him a slightly vulpine appearance. A mane of black hair falls to his shoulders, pulled in a well kept ponytail.

Her head tilting, ears straining at first but then easily picking out the guitar notes she watches the man enter the clearing.

She can’t help but give him an praising once over but when he greets the group she merely smiles and lifts a hand in greeting. Still feeling the new student, she doesn’t want to intrude on others saying their own greetings to the unfamiliar male.

Brennus breaks free from the treeline, six sizable bundles of dried oak slung over one shoulder in a display of clever ropework and legendary strength. A wide smile and mischievous eyes greet everyone, the newcomers each receiving a nod or a wave, as he makes his way over to the pit. Once he's gone about the business of seeing to everything left for fun and feasting the Fianna flops to the ground near his pack.

Sovereign Legacy - The blood of a known god runs through your veins and all of creation can feel it in theirs. Having the strength of your divine (or infernal) legacy behind you gives interactions with you a certain twist, based on ST discretion. Your difficulties on all Social rolls are -2 and your presence grants +1 to any group endeavors. ((Supporter Merit with different flavor text and additional cost))

With pointed ears, teeth a bit sharper than they need to be, and a smile like sin before supper, Brennus is not one to blend in. His clothing is mutable, dependent almost entirely on what is most available, save for a raven feather braided into his hair and a necklace of beads loose around his neck. Usually seen with his raven companion, a look of mischief in his eye, and a stride full of poorly contained violence. Somewhere there is a large, far too intelligent orange Maine Coon watching, waiting, and looking distinctly like they know something you don't.

"A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare to the jeweled vision of a life started anew." -- Aberjhani